


You Are All I Need

by MissEmmanuelle



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Jealous Jon, Jonsa babies - Freeform, Post-Canon, Pregnant Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-08
Updated: 2018-06-08
Packaged: 2019-05-19 22:30:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14882432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissEmmanuelle/pseuds/MissEmmanuelle
Summary: Sansa and Jon are K&QITN and are expecting their first child. Sansa is looking incredibly beautiful and gorgeous making everyone take notice and Jon isn’t too comfortable with that.





	You Are All I Need

**Author's Note:**

> Anon ask for jonsa-creatives on Tumblr. (We do get quite a bit of them and try our best to fill as soon as we get them)
> 
> Anonymous asked:
> 
> Hi don't know if you're still open for prompts... but if you are could you please write one where J and S are married and she's pregnant so every lord complements her glow and J's jealous and reacts lol. Thanks, a huge fan of your work ❤
> 
> Fluff to Smut in record time!
> 
> *unbeta'd so pardon the mistakes!
> 
> For Jonsa canon smut lovers - say aye!
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> Elle xxx (jonsaforlife/jonsa-creatives on Tumblr - come say hi!)

Sansa grunted as she shifted for the fifth time in her chair. The kicking was getting more and more frequent and often during her quiet time in solitude. 

_You won’t let your mother rest now, will you?_

It was quite pleasant not having to deal with matters concerning Winterfell for a bit, whether it meant an hour or two away from council meetings or examining the books; Sansa treasured every second of it. It was getting harder to move about in her condition, and her poor feet were often already sore before noon. 

Sansa wondered how her lady mother ever ran the castle, with her children about. She smiled sadly at the thought. Mother would be proud. 

 _Jon is a good man, mother. He is brave, gentle and kind. Just like father had promised_. 

Sansa wished she could take it all back. She would give everything to have her beloved parents again. Along with Robb and Rickon. She wished she had known better and cared less about princes and knights. And how she would be kinder to Jon. Another kick prompted another sharp deep breath, as if in response to her thoughts. _I know, little one, your father will be home soon. Hopefully. I do miss him terribly._

* * *

The sight of the shore made his heart skip a beat. Knowing he was a little closer to home, made him feel better about leaving a day earlier than planned. He had enough of being the King in the North and of his kingly duties. All his heart yearned for was to see Sansa. It has been two moons since he saw her last, before leaving for the South for an audience with King Tyrion. Admittedly, for most of his time there, he wished to be home instead and Tyrion was kind enough to let him return before their time was done.

“Your heart and mind seems elsewhere, my Lord. Sansa?” Tyrion commented one day, noticing his apparent absence as they discussed future plans for the North and South kingdoms. All Jon could do was apologize. It pained him to think of Sansa, on her own and with child. His child.  _Their firstborn_. Brienne was a trustworthy guard but Jon did not want to be apart from his beloved wife a day more.

“Is he here?” Sansa stood up and almost ran as fast as her sore feet could let her when she heard the loud groan of the gate doors opening. Brienne nodded and opened the door.

As she waited patiently for her husband, all Sansa wanted to do was leap into his arms and give him a thousand kisses. But alas, it wasn’t very lady-like to do so.

“Sansa!”

“Jon!” she cried out as she saw him jump from his still moving horse and run towards her. Who cares about being lady-like? Sansa wrapped her arms around his neck as she sprung into his waiting arms and peppered his face with kisses. 

“I missed you, my love.”

“And I, you.”

Jon glanced at the round bump underneath the dress Sansa was wearing. It was noticeably larger as Jon placed his hand on her abdomen. Sansa gave it a gentle squeeze.

“Robb’s growing bigger every day,” Sansa whispered as their foreheads touched.

“R-Robb? It’s a boy?”

Sansa nodded happily. “The Maester. He believes it’s a boy. Remember you said, we’ll name it Robb if it’s a boy?”

Jon closed his eyes, recalling the wonderful memory. The day Sansa gave him the best gift he could ever ask for.

“I’m never leaving you or Robb ever again,” he added softly.

It was another evening in the great hall where both Jon and Sansa had to meet with the visiting northern Lords, all of whom were growing concerned about another long winter to come. The last winter was a brutal one, a winter that brought death with it. _If we survived that winter, we could survive this one_ , Jon thought, confidently.

“And these blankets, your Grace, embroidered by my sister herself, Lady Cerywn when she heard of the good news. A gift for your firstborn. And as always Lady Sansa, you are glowing,” Lord Cerwyn bowed as he handed over a wrapped bundle.

“Thank you, Lord Cerwyn. How wonderful,” Sansa smiled in response. Jon watched adoringly at how Sansa beamed at the exquisite wool blankets. It was a vision, her swaddling their infant son and holding him in her arms. But his face turned dark, the moment he saw how Lord Cerwyn was watching her. A little too long for his liking.  _How long has he been standing there?_

“Thank you, Lord Cerwyn. And to your kind sister for her gift.”

Sansa had always been a great beauty and now even more so, a radiant glow that was difficult to ignore in her presence. It was understandable how everyone would be in awe. But understanding it, does not mean he had to accept it.

Jon bristled at the thought of the stares directed her way. Jon scanned the room. Almost everyone had their eyes on Sansa, who was seated close to where he was standing. He supposed as King in the North and having returned back home to Winterfell, he would have thought to have their undivided attention. There were important matters at hand and he was exhausted from his journey. Jon cleared his throat. Their eyes briefly returned to him again but slowly drifted back to Sansa. 

Suddenly, his cloak had gotten a little too tight. An uncomfortable heat was rising in him despite the chill in the air.

“Well that’s it for today, my Lords. Please see that all your rooms are ready for the night. We shall reconvene tomorrow morning. My Lady here needs her rest, my Lords. Pardon us,” Jon found himself hastily addressing the entire hall. A murmur rose amongst the men.

“But Jon, I feel fine. And they just got here-”

“Brienne, would you kindly see to it that my wife gets her rest? Thank you, my Lords. Till tomorrow.”

* * *

Jon took in a deep breath as he readied himself before the door of the Lord’s chambers. He was a fool. A fool for sending her to their room without counsel and truth be told, he was not ready to face her once he entered. What was he going to say? _That I don’t like other men looking at you? At my beautiful wife?_  With her fiery red hair, ocean blue eyes and an ample bosom wrapped deliciously under a dress that clung to her every curve. Even the thought made him hard. And any man looking at Sansa would feel the same. It was unacceptable.

Opening the door, Jon found the room dimly lit. It was still quite early in the night but somehow for Sansa, it was already time for bed. Jon’s guilty gaze fell upon Sansa brushing her hair, in her night shift with her back turned to him.

“Sansa?”

Silence, save for the soft swish of the hair brush, greeted him.

“Sansa? Are you tired, love?”

Sansa paused her brushing and placed the hair brush on the small table beside her. She turned and pushed aside the furs on the bed whilst making herself comfortable on her side. And finally turned to him, with a stare so cold it sent chills down his spine.

“Of course I am, Jon. I wasn’t but you told me that I was so now I am.”

Jon bit his lip. Ashamedly, that was true. Drawing near, Jon removed his cloak and tunic, trying hard to avoid Sansa’s glare. He was down to only his breeches and approaching the bed when Sansa cleared her throat.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Jon warily removed his boots and stood by his side of the bed as Sansa folded her arms across her belly, her pale blue eyes sternly affixed on him.

“I would like to go to bed. It has been a long journey back. Is that all right, love?”

“Oh tired are you? Did you feel tired or did someone tell you that you were? Because I’m not tired at all. In fact, Robb isn’t tired either. He’s been kicking me the whole day.”

Jon winced. He should not have done what he did.

“I am sorry love, I thought you would like more rest and not deal with house matters. And since I’m back I suppose I could-”

“Could what? Run the castle? Like I did for the few months while you were in the South?”

Jon had no answer to that. She had done an excellent job as Lady of Winterfell and looking after everything in his absence.

Jon knelt on the bed facing Sansa who was cross with him, but looked breathlessly beautiful being so.

“I’m sorry Sansa, I.. I didn’t know what came over me.”

Sansa turned from him and pulled her hand away that Jon was trying to grasp.

“What’s gotten into you? One moment you love me and the next moment you don’t. I don’t recognise this man who tells me what to do, in my own house. Return my husband to me, at once,” Sansa snapped at him, though feeling a slight tinge of regret at her harsh choice of words. She had never been angry with him, not like this. But he had never acted like this before either.

“Sansa… I.. you must think of me foolish but …”

It was grating on her nerves how Jon was stumbling over his words now, when earlier in the hall, he wasn’t.

“Out with it. Or you sleep on the floor.”

_Aye. I deserved that._

Jon looked up in exasperation. Jealousy was not a good look on him.

“It makes me angry when other men look at you, Sansa.”

Sansa frowned at him.  _What nonsense._ “What?”

Jon inhaled as he tried to repeat the words once more.

“The Lords. The men in the room. They were all looking at you. Staring at you, up and down. Like you were an object. A trophy to be won. I did not like it. Not one bit. And I know why they do. If they’re men like I am, I know what goes through their minds when they cast their eyes upon you.”

Sansa shook her head in disbelief. Where else would they look if the Lady of Winterfell was addressing them? She had felt no such thing when she had her own council meetings while Jon was away.

“And what do you think they’re thinking then? I’d like to know.”

Jon’s dark grey eyes warned her not to ask but she was curious and adamant. Well, at least she deserved an explanation for his callousness.

“Sansa, I am sorry, truly. It won’t happen again. Please shall we rest now, my love?”

“What things?”

Jon sighed. There was no way he would get out of this. “Things we do when you lay with me. Things that a husband does to his wife. Those things.”

“You think all the Lords think of that when they look at me?”

Jon nodded. “Well, yes. I think of those things when I look at you. And why not them?”

Sansa’s face softened. No longer were her eyes cold and angry.

“You… still think of such things of me? Even when I… Look like this?” Sansa asked.

Jon grabbed both her hands and gripped them firmly. “You are more beautiful now than you have ever been. How is that possible that I want you so much still, that you’re carrying my child, how that thought pleases me so? So much that I hunger for you even more?”

Sansa blushed as a small grin escaped her. “But Jon.. I love our child but how can it be possible that you desire me now, like this?”

“You will always be beautiful in my eyes. I will always want you. With child or not. That will never change. And I’m a fool for making my beautiful wife angry, even though she looks wonderful being crossed,” Jon assured her, pulling her into his arms. Honesty was liberating.

Sansa looked up from leaning against his chest. “Well, I don’t like being cross with you either. Anything else is fine other than cross.”

Jon chuckled. “Aye, remind me never to make you angry, love. So, what would you have me do then?”

Sansa played with the laces on his breeches and pulled on one of them.

“Well, it has a long while that I’ve felt .. this.” Jon hissed as Sansa gave his cock a firm grip, one that immediately roused it awake.  _Aye, it has been a while._  And by gods, did he miss her.

Sansa pushed herself up to meet his face and pressed her lips deeply onto his.

Their tongues swirled around one another’s as Jon gently laid Sansa on her back. The sharp roundness of her belly kept reminding him to be careful.

“Sansa.. can we?”

Sansa nodded breathlessly, keeping Jon close to her and inhaling the comfort of his scent. “Yes, Jon. You won’t hurt the baby.”

Jon kissed her neck as he pushed her night shift further up to her chest and over her head as he reached the swollen pale globes, clamping his mouth on her teats. Her skin was soft, smooth and feverish to the touch. How he missed this.

Sansa moaned softly as his fingers ventured down in between her legs, parting her wet folds and caressing gently the soft knob of flesh that drove her wild.

“Ohh.. Jon..”

It was a cue he’d take, peppering her smooth beautiful round belly with kisses and moving down to her mound. Wet and ready for him. As always.

Jon pulled one of her legs and rested it on his shoulder while pushing the other gently apart. The sight of her pink flesh covered by a small thatch of red hair excited him. His cock so achingly hard for her, it almost hurt and her scent was intoxicating, almost addictive. His lust for her knew no bounds, no limits, since the first night they bedded. What they had between them from that night onwards, was magical. He had never known he could feel like that with a woman. As long as she would have him, Jon knew who he belonged to.

Sansa groaned and arched her back as Jon’s mouth finally latched onto her quim. His quick tongue darted in and out of her flesh, sucking and lapping at her folds drove every one of her senses tingling with delight.

Jon held her legs in a tight grip as he felt her buck and shudder, sucking further on the little knob of flesh that made her scream his name.

“Ahhh Jon!”

Panting and almost limp as she came down from her peak, Jon kissed the inside of her thighs and sat up. Wiping his mouth, Jon smirked as he readied himself home. With some spit, Jon pressed down his hard aching cock at her entrance. Sansa gasped in anticipation, she had missed this too.

“Sit up, my love. I want to watch you.”

Sansa pushed herself up with her legs apart, her hands reaching out for Jon.

Kissing her hands, Jon slowly entered her, both gasping at the exquisite friction his cock craved and one that her cunt sorely missed. Inhaling deeply, Jon pushed further in gently as her inner walls clung onto him. She was hot, tight and wet. Just the way he remembered on their wedding night.

“Ahh take me Jon..”

The look of unbridled lust on Sansa’s face was a sight to behold as Jon held her hips down and glided in and out of her cunt. Her flesh felt incredible in his hands and on his cock, as he massaged the soft skin above where their bodies joined. Grunting, Jon slammed home and home again. She was his home. And this time with a beautiful round ‘roof’, a bump that reminded him of their deep and passionate love for one another. Jon groaned as his cock grew even harder at the thought.

“Ahh.. Jon.. I missed you.” Sansa shut her eyes, throwing her head back as she felt the familiar tingle again. It rose rapidly, this time with Jon fervently rubbing against a familiar spot with his firm rod of flesh inside her. He was getting engorged and harder by the second and Sansa knew from his low growls that he too was close.

“Ahh.. Sansa… my love..”

Jon slowed down as rope after rope of his seed pooled inside her. Sansa howled as her walls clung and clenched onto him, their pleasure reaching dizzying heights, after so long.

“Come here, my wife,” Jon tugged at her arm as his snaked around her belly and laid down, her back on his chest.

Kissing her hair, Jon realised there was nothing he needed to fear. Their coupling, their intimate touches, the way she called his name, how she looked at him whenever their eyes met; told him all he needed to know.

That no matter what, no matter who looked at her, it was Sansa who held him close and called him husband.


End file.
